


More than Late Nights and Grotty Hotels

by fractionallyfoxtrot



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: M/M, Misunderstandings, post Yverdon-les-Bains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-14 09:54:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/835590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fractionallyfoxtrot/pseuds/fractionallyfoxtrot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the hallway of a particularly grotty hotel, Douglas decides to tell Martin how he feels about Martin leaving MJN for Swiss Airways.  However, this is one of those very rare occasions where Douglas is wrong and it's up to Martin to set him right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More than Late Nights and Grotty Hotels

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Grotty Hotel](http://cabinpres-fic.dreamwidth.org/6625.html?thread=12364513#cmt12364513) prompt on the meme and [mxdp's](http://mxdp.tumblr.com/) [drawing of Martin and Douglas kissing in the hallway of a grotty hotel](http://mxdp.tumblr.com/post/48468899545/cabin-pressure-martin-and-douglas-kissing-in-the).

Martin couldn’t just see the anger emanating from Douglas as they moved down the hall after dinner.

He could _feel_ it.

Dinner in the grotty hotel’s grotty restaurant had been a risky endeavour but with nothing else in a reasonable distance open at that hour they’d had no other choice. Douglas had been unusually quiet during the meal, as he’d been during the whole flight, while Arthur kept them both entertained by calling out every cockroach he saw skitter across the wall, the ceiling, or the table.

Fortunately, they all came away from the meal without any ill after effects. Unfortunately, Douglas’ anger only seemed to grow as they sat at the dirty little table.

Martin hurried along behind him, forced to almost jog to keep up with Douglas’ longer strides.

His mind sifted through the events of the past few days, struggling to find the cause of Douglas’ inexplicable anger. They’d been perfectly amicable on their last few flights; Douglas even complimented Martin’s win of ‘Airports on Islands’ with Toliara on Madagascar. Everything had gone smoothly, with an ease gained from five years of working side-by-side, and Martin simply could not figure out what had caused the severe shift in Douglas’ mood.

He debated asking the man directly, strangely feeling more comfortable with the prospect of Douglas yelling at him than enduring any more of the sharp silence that only Douglas was capable of.

Martin eyed the police tape striped over a passing door. If the words ‘Do Not Enter’ in bright yellow letters had been intended as a warning sign for Martin from the universe, he had no plans to heed it.

Douglas reached his room first but was stalled by a search of his pockets for his key card. Martin opened the electronically locked door with practiced touch of a well-traveled pilot and hesitated in the doorway as Douglas finally pulled the key card from his wallet. He jammed it into the slot, his back purposefully turned on Martin.

Martin worked up the courage to speak just as the lock beeped with a flash of green.

“Douglas-”

“Not going to miss places like this, are you?”

Martin blinked a few times at Douglas’ tense shoulders.

“What?”

“When you’re working for _Swiss Airways_ ,” Douglas growled, leaning on the airline’s name as if he meant to break it. “No, they’re a proper airline who put their pilots up in proper accommodations. There won’t be any cracked drywall or cockroach infestations in your future.”

“Douglas-”

“Not that there’ll be any in my future either, seeing as how MJN will go under once you’re gone.”

Martin bent the key card in his hands back and forth, testing the plastic’s elasticity as he tried to decide which of Douglas’ statements to correct first.

“Douglas, I didn’t-”

“It’s not even that you chose to go,” Douglas said, his voice rising as he turned on Martin. “We all expected you to go; it would be selfish to ask you not to.” Douglas stalked towards Martin, causing him to step back instinctively. “It’s that you chose not to tell us.”

“But, Douglas, I-”

“What did you intend to do?” Douglas asked, towering over Martin. “Pack up in secret and tell us on your last day? Did you intend to tell us _at all_? Even with the company and our livelihoods on the line, did you really think we wouldn’t be happy for you? That we wouldn’t support you in your new opportunity?”

Martin forced himself to step back up to the doorway but Douglas continued before he could even open his mouth.

“MJN got by because you worked unpaid for five years and we owe you a lot for that but you,” Douglas jabbed Martin in the chest, “got something out of it too. No one would hire you for a full-time position before Carolyn came along; with your track record and inexperience, no one even gave you a second glance. But Carolyn loves a bargain, regardless of how it looks,” he said, emphasizing his point by gesturing to their surroundings, “so she hired you and made you captain. You were in command of an aircraft at the age of thirty-two, even if that aircraft was GERTI. These five years at MJN have made you the adequate pilot you are today and you owe all of that to us.”

“Douglas-”

“Five. Years,” Douglas stressed. “Five years working side-by-side, flight after flight, and you don’t have the _decency_ to tell us that you chose to take the job.” Douglas pushed his hair back and slammed one of his hands against the wall. “I will never say this again but this job is more than just a job. This company is more than just a company and you know that. After all we’ve been through, after all the near misses and last minute escapes, I can’t believe that you-”

Martin cut Douglas off. He gave up on actually getting a word in edgewise; Martin reached up--key card still in hand--grabbed Douglas’ face, and kissed him.

He had to push himself up on his toes to compensate for the older man’s height but once he got a hold of him, he refused to let go. So much of what Douglas said was wrong and Martin had to correct him, one way or another.

He pressed his lips gently to ones he always imagined kissing. He never thought he’d get the chance--Douglas was _Douglas_ and Martin was, well, Martin--and even if he had, he never thought it would be like this, in the middle of an argument in the hallway of the grottiest hotel either of them had ever seen. And yet, it was still better than anything he ever imagined. The warmth of Douglas’ mouth on his and the feel of his hair beneath Martin’s fingertips had a splendor that only Douglas was capable of.

Martin hesitantly pulled back, letting his fingers trail along Douglas’ lapels as he returned himself to the heels of his feet.

“I didn’t take the job.”

“What?” Douglas asked, looking confused. “Of course you did.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“This morning with Carolyn-”

“I was telling her that I didn’t take the job,” Martin explained. “She called me an idiot.”

“You are an idiot,” Douglas agreed.

Douglas’ features softened noticeably, his shoulders relaxing as his hands slid down the door frame. Martin shrugged, looking down at the key card in his hand.

“I couldn’t go,” he said softly. “I couldn’t leave MJN.” Martin forced his head up and looked straight at Douglas. “I... I couldn’t leave you.”

“Why not?”

Martin took a deep breath to steady himself. He lay a hand on Douglas’ chest, physically reaching out for the support he’d turned to so often in very different contexts.

“Because this job is more than just a job and you are more than just my first officer.”

Martin held his breath as he waited for Douglas to respond. The man’s face was still and unreadable as Douglas looked down at Martin’s hand in silence. Without a word, he took one of his hands from the wall and lay it over Martin’s, curling his fingers tightly around Martin’s hand, holding it firmly in place.

It was an action so encouraging that Martin let out his breath and kept on talking.

“After all we’ve been through, after all the late nights and grotty hotels, I, I hoped you knew.”

Douglas looked up at him as his other hand found its way to Martin’s face; Martin tried and failed to not lean into his touch. Douglas stepped forward, crossing the threshold, until there was just enough room for their hands between them. His thumb caressed Martin’s cheek as Martin waited anxiously for him to speak.

“I didn’t,” Douglas admitted with a small shake of his head. A smile slowly grew over his face as he drew Martin in closer. “But I hoped too.” 

Douglas met Martin in the kiss they’d both been long hoping for. His hand sunk into Martin’s hair, pulling him firmly to the press of his lips. Martin’s hand twisted in Douglas’ jacket, holding on tightly out of fear that the improbability of the whole situation would overtake him and find him somewhere other than the arms of his first officer. He relied on the steady beat of Douglas’ heart beneath his hand to ground him in the moment, in reality, making an improbable situation probable in a way that only Douglas was capable of.

Douglas let go of Martin’s hand in favor of wrapping his arm around Martin’s waist. Martin stepped backwards into his room, guided by Douglas’ slow pace and encouraging kisses dropped along his jaw and down his neck. Key cards fell to the floor as hands reached for ties and pushed jackets over shoulders.

The door swung closed on its own accord, the lock beeping and flashing red, shutting them in the only portion of the hotel that could even begin to be considered pleasant.


End file.
